Read Online As Long as the Rivers Flow by James Bartleman - Free Book Online

come and take him away if I try to hide him. I know it’s a lot to ask, but could you keep an eye on him and protect him for me? Don’t let him get lonely. He’s so small for his age and is so attached to me, he couldn’t cope without you.”
    Martha had just turned seven, and she knew that there was little she could do to help her cousin. She couldn’t even take care of herself. But looking into the anguished eyes of her aunt, and being by nature compassionate, she promised she would ensure no harm came to Little Joe.
    Her aunt hugged her. “I’m so happy,” she said. “You’ve always been a kind and gentle girl. With you looking out for him, I know he’ll be fine.”
    A truly terrible year began for Martha and Little Joe. With her mother and aunt looking on, Martha and the boy climbed aboard the float plane that came to take them away at the end of August. This time she knew it was not a Wendigo, and was able to reassure Little Joe that nothing bad would happen during the flight. That would be the last time she would be able to help him.
    At the dock, they were met by the same nun who had greeted Martha a year before. Without a word, she took Little Joe’s hand and led him up the hill to the residential school, motioning Martha to follow. At the door was Sister Angelica, waiting to assist her colleague in preparing the boy for his new life. When Martha offered to help, Sister Angelica paid her no attention.
    Soon Martha heard the screams of Little Joe as the nuns undressed him, pushed him into the shower, cut off his braids and poured coal oil on his head. She held her head in her hands as she heard shouting, slaps being administered, renewed howling and silence. Later a grim-faced Sister Angelica led him into the diningroom. He smelled of coal oil, his hair was shorn, he was dressed in regulation clothing and his face was covered in welts and swollen from crying.
    Little Joe rushed to Martha, but Sister Angelica pulled him away, and told him in English that he was never to approach a girl again.
    The boy, who did not understand English, said in Anishinaabemowin, “But Martha is my cousin. She is supposed to care for me.”
    “Just do as she says,” said Martha in the same language. “She’ll hit you really hard if you don’t.”
    Sister Angelica, who understood what had been said and did not like it, turned on Martha.
    “Stay out of this! I don’t need your help to deal with this brat. Remember, it is forbidden to speak your heathen language here at the school. Besides, who do you think you are anyway, talking to a boy and interfering with the duties of a nun?”
    She slapped Martha across the face, causing blood to spurt from her nose and down across her blouse, and ordered Little Joe to go to the front of the room. There she started to strap him on his hands and wrists.
    As the other children watched in fascinated horror, Martha slipped out of her seat, walked slowly and deliberately to the front, caught hold of the strap and tried to stop the punishment.
    “He’s just a little boy,” she said to the nun. “My aunt asked me to protect him.”
    “Protect him? Protect him? His mother should be grateful for what we’re doing for him.”
    With the help of another nun, Sister Angelica dragged Martha roughly from the room and down to the basement. There they tied her hands together and attached them with a rope to the overhead hot water pipes. The two of them pulled off her dress and flogged her with electrical cords until her bowels loosened and she fouledher pants. They then untied her, pushed her into the coal cellar and locked the door.
    “You dirty savage, never, ever interfere with our work again! Let’s hope this teaches you a lesson.”
    The next morning, they released Martha from her unlit hole but made her stand, stinking and filthy, in front of the student body, and contritely apologize to the nuns.
    “Now let this be a lesson to the rest of you. Disobey us and you’ll get the